"M. Rickert - Traitor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rickert Mary)

Alika shrugs. The bells jingle softly.

“Come here, child.”

Alika walks over to her mama.

“Sit down.” Her mama pats the step, right beside her.

Alika’s butt touches her mother’s hip. Alika’s mother smells like
cigarettes and orchid shampoo. She brings a trembling hand to her lips.
Drags on the cigarette, turns to face Alika. Alika thinks she is the luckiest
girl in America to have a mama so beautiful.

“You don’t remember none of it?” she says.

Alika shakes her head. It always happens like this. Her mother puts an
arm around her, pulls her tight. Alika’s bells ring with a burst. “Good,” her
mama says. “Well, all right then. Good.”

They sit there until their butts get sore and then they go inside. Alika
blinks against the dark and she hums as she runs up the stairs. Her mother
follows behind, so slow that Alika has to wait for her at the door. While she
waits, Alika hops from one foot to another. The bells make a quick ring, but
Alika’s mother says, “Shush, Alika, what did I tell you about making noise
out here?”

Alika stands still while her mother unlocks the door. When she opens
it, fans whirl the heat at them. Alika’s mom says, “Shit.” She closes the
door. Locks it. Chains it. Alika says, “Won’t do much good.”

Alika’s mother turns fast. “What?” she says with a sharp mean voice.

Alika shrugs. Brrring. She spins away from her mother, singing, “Oh,
America, my lovely home, America for me. America! America! The bloody
and the free!”

“Alika!” her mother says.
 Alika stops in mid-spin. Bells go brrring brring ring tingle tap. She
keeps her arms spread out and her feet apart, her eyes focused on the
light switch on the wall.

“I’m going into the room,” Alika’s mother says.

Alika knows what that means.

“I’ll be out in a couple of hours. Your dinner is in the refrigerator. Nuke
it for three minutes. And be careful when you take off the plastic wrap. Do
you hear me Alika?”

Nod. (Brrring.)